sewing buttons to bambi, tying strings to a kite
by fandrastic
Summary: annie edison is never late.


**SHAZAM. MORE FIC FROM FANDRASTIC.**

**enjoy, my precious blueberries.**

**x**

.

.

.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

_i wanna tell you there's a really good reason_  
><em>why i came home wasted in the middle of the night<em>  
><em>a tiny kingdom at the bottom of the trees<em>  
><em>where i was always a winner and i was usually right<em>

_oh, you can watch it when you get a bit older_  
><em>but for now in the bad bits, i should cover your eyes<em>  
><em>she painted pictures with the tips of her fingers<em>  
><em>sewing buttons to bambi, tying strings to a kite<em>

_bambi—tokyo police club_

-x-

* * *

><p>Three weeks after she turns eleven, her parents get divorced.<p>

Her circumstance is by no means exceptional; people divorce all the time and people move on from it. That's all there is to it.

She doesn't really remember her parents being in love with each other. Her dad spends all his time at work and her mom is so caught up with him never being around that she isolates herself, keeping her bedroom door closed all the time. Annie grows up in a slew of afterschool activities and long hours at Hebrew school and doesn't know anything different, doesn't expect anything better.

So when her parents sit her down and break the news to her, she doesn't really get what's changed.

Divorce just means that her parents no longer fight face to face, and that she gets to celebrate her birthday twice, and that her dad doesn't come to her Bat Mitzvah, he instead waits outside the synagogue and gives her a nice card with a large check inside.

For college, he tells her.

That's the last time she sees him.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She used part of the check to pay for her Adderall habit.<p>

It's the first time _ever _that she feels good at something. School becomes a breeze and she's acing all her classes and even though Troy Barnes never notices her, she thinks that if she works hard enough, maybe he will.

And it's not until she's almost eighteen that she loses her virginity. In vain, she had hoped to lose it before senior year, but then her skin started breaking out and there wasn't a single person at Riverside who'd give her a second glance.

But then she meets Gavin in English 12 and he likes the same kinds of movies she does and has really straight teeth and thinks her haircut is like, super cute, so she swallows her nervousness and a single white pill and asks him out. He frowns a little—so adorable!—but accepts.

Two months later, she has sex with Gavin on the floor of his walk-in closet, a carefully planned tryst during a carefully planned study session, where she knows she'll be _just _high enough on Adderall to lose most of her inhibitions. Gavin closes his eyes and doesn't kiss her, which is normal because he's only kissed her twice and they've _never_ frenched, and when he comes his eyes are shiny with moisture.

Her thighs are sticky and his Madonna CD is skipping slightly and sex is _definitely_ not as great as their favorite movies make it sound, but she's done it. She's finally a woman. Gratefully, she crosses off pre-marital sex on her mental master list of 'things to do before going to Princeton', and slips another pill past her lips.

She's practically unstoppable at this point.

Gavin comes out to her a week later, twisting his fingers nervously and avoiding her wide-eyed gaze.

The following mental breakdown and pill overdose are practically unstoppable at this point.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>The rest of her check goes towards her rehabilitation fees.<p>

Her mother, who is scandalized by the entire incident, refuses to help her pay for rehab. All she wants is to sweep the entire debacle under the rug—Princeton will never take a girl who has been hooked on pills, she says, and she can't imagine her only child going to school anywhere else.

So without the support of her mother, Annie checks herself into Red Oaks Rehabilitation just outside of Boulder and spends the next sixty days reassembling the pieces of her broken future. She manages to convince her therapist to let her complete her GED, and she graduates a week before she's released. And when she returns home, her belongings are in boxes and her mother's icy silence speaks volumes.

She looks for apartments over the next week and settles on the cheapest place she can find.

When she moves in and unpacks and sees how sad her adolescent toys and linens look in the glow of the neon lights from the store downstairs, she cries.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She spends a month wallowing in self-pity and crying into pints of ice cream she can't really afford when a flyer addressed to 'RESIDENT' appears in her normally empty mailbox. It's a colorful brochure for Greendale Community College, a school that had only popped up on her radar when she heard Troy Barnes was going.<p>

The brochure sits on her coffee table for a week before she reads it.

It's another two weeks before she fills out the mail-in application. It's just an attached postcard on the back, emblazed with the phrase 'You're Already Accepted!'.

She's already accepted.

A few days later a course catalog shows up. She facebook-stalks Troy until she can safely assume that he's taking an intro level Spanish class and signs herself up as well, despite the fact that she's been taking French since middle school.

If she's going to be stuck going to Greendale, she might as well have a class with someone she knows—if only from afar.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>It takes two years but Greendale becomes home and her study group becomes family.<p>

Idly, she wonders if it's all too good to be true.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Feeling burnt out from the study group after their second tumultuous paintball game, she decides to sign up for summer classes before junior year starts.<p>

There's no chance in hell that anyone from the group would be attending Greendale for longer than they'd have to, so she doesn't have to worry about seeing Abed or Britta or Jeff, and it's more of a relief than she anticipated when she shows up to a class that's _not _dominated by her diverse group of friends.

Her schedule is a solid block of literature and history classes, wordy lectures that are her favorite, but are usually shunned by the group when she suggests them, and it's _wonderful_, wonderful to be able to sit and absorb without worrying about how many copies of her notes she'll have to make for everyone else.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>There's a cute guy in her literature class.<p>

His name is Logan and he's attractive because he's not Troy or Vaughn or Jeff or gay and because he actually thinks that she's cute too. He tells her once before he slips out of the classroom for a cigarette break.

She's emboldened because Britta's mentioned him once during study group last semester and there's no way she's going to crush on Britta's sloppy seconds again, so she asks Logan out to coffee the next time she sees him. He accepts with a smile.

They meet up at a place a few blocks away and he ends up kissing her halfway through her lengthy monologue about Faulkner—kisses her just like in the movies.

She doesn't know if that's a good thing or not anymore.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>They start dating officially two weeks later.<p>

She gleefully changes her facebook status to 'In a Relationship', and smiles at each response of congratulations she receives.

It also, inevitably, leads to some serious facebook-stalking by her study group and a six-way message with them that goes on for several pages.

Britta gives her several approving comments, as if it had been her idea in the first place. Troy and Abed are a little more skeptical of the newcomer, and are wary of an unwanted shift in their group dynamic. However, when they learn that Logan has the entire Star Trek collection on DVD, he's soon welcomed into the fold with open arms, even if they haven't actually met him yet.

Shirley's the easiest to convince; Logan seems attractive in his profile pictures and Annie's attractive so she believes that they should automatically get together. Logan's a Christian as well, and that alone puts him on Shirley's good side.

Jeff doesn't say much, just makes comments about how Logan seems to be the happy medium between the Hippie with the tiny nipples and the Serial Killer disguised as a doctor. Logan is soon dubbed 'the only average guy at Greendale'. After that, Jeff's essentially absent from the discussion. Apparently, it's his way of staying true to his word and not concerning himself with her love life.

But nothing, not even Jeff's lack of interest can ruin the high of her new relationship.

Besides, Logan took Billiards their freshman year, and doesn't care much for Jeff either, so it all works out.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Two months later they're sleeping together.<p>

She's only ever had sex with two other guys, the first being her gay high school boyfriend and the second being only a few fumbled attempts with Vaughn. Sex was boring and a little painful and really rather sticky, so when Logan slides his hand up her skirt one time at his apartment, when they're supposed to be studying, she moves to swat him away so she can focus. But then, when he can't go any farther without… he curls with his fingers and circles with his thumb and—

_oh_

—well that's different.

It leads to her first orgasm and Logan is _very_ pleased with himself. Her face is burning bright red, but when he lifts her to wrap her legs around his hips soon after, she doesn't protest.

She kind of understands why Jeff and Britta hooked up in secret all of last year because, well… this is something she can definitely see herself making a habit out of.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>When the second summer semester starts up, Logan is no longer in any of her classes, but they still meet up for lunch dates and she's over at his apartment just as often as he's over at hers.<p>

It's her first _real_ relationship, because her boyfriend in high school definitely didn't count and Vaughn hated the label of 'boyfriend', he was more of a 'kindred spirit, twin soul' kind of guy, so being with Logan is something entirely different.

She feels so grown up now, practically cohabitating with her significant other, and having an actual sex life… it's almost surreal how perfect it is.

Which is exactly why it doesn't last.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She's not even the first to know.<p>

Abed and Troy have offered her the third bedroom in their new apartment, because she lives over a sex shop in a bad neighborhood and Abed really only knows how to make falafel, so they take her to lunch to try and woo her into living with them, and by extension, cooking for them.

After they eat, Abed goes to offer her some of his double-chocolate brownie when she declines. She's craving lemon meringue, instead.

Which is weird, because she hates lemons.

He seems a little taken aback, and his eyes look a bit distant as he loses himself in his head for a minute. Moments later, his eyes widen by a fraction that only Troy can decipher meaning to. Rising from the table without another word, he seems to consult a small notebook, shaking his head as he does so.

She feels like she's missing something, apparently something important because—

_oh_

—she's late.

And Annie Edison is _never _late.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She shamefully picks up about seven different pregnancy tests from the drugstore down the street from her apartment, and the cashier gives her a pitying look. All she wants is for the floor to swallow her on the spot, and her phone buzzing in her pocket does little to console her.<p>

Logan's calling, reconfirming their dinner plans.

She sends him to voicemail as she pays for the tests and keeps her head low when she walks home.

She never did give Troy and Abed a straight answer.

Never in her life has Annie wanted to fail a test before, but she's praying so hard to fail this that she's practically breaking a sweat.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She passes.<p>

She passes seven times and she cries.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She has no idea how to tell Logan, but she's seen enough movies and watched enough television to know that there's no easy way to drop this kind of bomb—all she knows is that sooner is better than later.<p>

He comes over to her place a few days after she finds out, kissing her in greeting. It's so nonchalant and familiar that she wants to weep. While he takes off his jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair, she tells him, blurts it out that she took seven tests and passed them all.

When he leaves, his coat stays draped on the back of the chair.

He doesn't come back for it.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>The secret is eating her alive and she hardly knows how to even function anymore, so she panics and calls Britta in the middle of the night.<p>

She's already sobbing by the time that Britta answers, the blonde woman's voice sounding scratchy and—

_oh_

—that sounds like Jeff in the background.

Annie hasn't even gotten any words out through her tears when Britta announces that she's on her way over and the line goes dead.

Britta knocks loudly on the door fifteen minutes later and when she's let in, she quickly envelops Annie in a tight hug, smoothing back her hair and whispering motherly endearments. She can see the empty pregnancy test boxes on the table and comes to the correct conclusion with tears in her own eyes.

When Annie's calmed down some, enough that her breathing is less frantic, Britta sits her on the sofa and goes to make some hot chocolate. Gently, she tells Annie all about her options; adoption and abortion and keeping the baby.

They both cry together once more, curled up on the sofa as their drinks grow cold.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She decides to keep it.<p>

Her pill addiction kept from her having the babysitting experience she had always wanted, so she really doesn't know much about kids, but she decides to go through with it anyway.

She knows that she's got other options, that she doesn't have to keep the baby, but once the shock wore off, reality sunk in and she felt, somewhere deep down in her soul or her heart or her head that she could do this.

She survived divorce and rehab and a sad, lonely childhood. She can do anything.

Logan has seemingly vanished into thin air, and is effectively out of her life. The warm affection she once held solely for him has quickly cooled into complete disregard. If anything, she's used to getting by on her own.

The only people that have absolute confirmation about her pregnancy were Britta and her new OB/GYN.

There's some pressure to come clean with her situation with the rest of her friends from Britta, who only wants the best for her, but she feels that for the time being, waiting is her best option.

Plus, she knows from all the research she's been doing that it's often best to wait until after the first trimester before sharing the news.

Of course, while that's the plan, it isn't how it works out.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Britta's been her rock through this whole ordeal, taking her to the doctor, making her stick to a healthy diet, and helping her stock up on pre-natal vitamins, so she doesn't begrudge the blonde when she spends the weekend going out drinking and catching up with her other friends.<p>

The only problem is that when Britta gets drunk, her lips get loose.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>It's almost midnight when fierce pounding on her front door wakes her from her sleep. Terrified, she grabs the baseball bat she keeps in the entryway and spares a glance through the peephole.<p>

It's Jeff.

She's pretty sure he's going to wake the entire building if he doesn't stop beating the crap out of her door, so she frantically unlatches the many locks and drags him inside. Once the door is closed behind him, Jeff leans his long frame against it and stares at her, his jaw impossibly tight. He smells like scotch.

"You're drunk," she tells him, turning and putting the bat away.

"You're pregnant," he counters, his voice threaded through with bitterness.

She stills, hand covering the base of her still-flat abdomen. Her back is still to him, and she's almost afraid to look at him.

"Annie…" his voice breaks.

The show of emotion is proof enough for her that he's drunk—Jeff Winger doesn't talk about feelings, _especially_ with her. A part of her wonders if he's drunk enough that he'll forget all about what Britta told him.

When she does turn to face him, the look in his eyes is one she's never seen before, like he's mourning and angry and holding something back all at once. It makes her chest hurt.

His jaw is still tense, as if he's biting back the things he can't say, won't say. She doesn't even realize that she's crying until she feels the tears drip down her chin. Hastily, she wipes at them with the back of her wrist and a moment later, she feels herself being pulled flush against Jeff's frame.

He's hugging her and it makes her cry more.

"We're going to get through this," he promises her with a whisper, and with that he's gone, leaving her standing alone in her apartment, her eyes red from tears.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>They're not together.<p>

However, Jeff has taken it upon himself to take care of her.

It feels like it's out of character for him, especially after he spent two previous years making it abundantly clear that he doesn't 'do' feelings or anything in that vein—especially for Irony-free Annie.

But when Britta can't make it to her first ultrasound, Jeff's the one at her side instead, his eyes distant as he stares at the monitor.

Her life is bizarre, and even Jeff's hand, strong and warm around her own, feels almost far away.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She tells the rest of the group on the first day of classes.<p>

She's not far along enough to really be showing, but she feels so different from the Annie she was the last time they were all together that she wonders if they can already tell.

Shirley holds her close and tells her that she made the right decision by keeping the baby, while Troy gives her a look as if truly seeing her for the first time. He kisses her cheek and promises to key Logan's car the next time he sees him. It makes her laugh, makes them all laugh, and even though everything's changed, it helps to bring them all back. Abed watches everyone quietly, but smiles reassuringly up at her when she catches his eye.

Once the group breaks to head to their respective classes, Pierce writes her a check that he refuses to take back—or blackmail her with. When her eyes well up with tears, he pats her gently on her back and steers her in the opposite direction to where Jeff is waiting for her, a gentle look on his face that has become more and more familiar.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>The next few months pass in a blur.<p>

Troy unsuccessfully tries to track down Logan at Greendale, but a stealthy recon mission through the Dean's admission files proves that he dropped out at the end of the second summer semester. Months ago, she would have been beside herself at the news. Now, she knows she has more important things to set her focus on.

Abed helps her search for an apartment that Pierce's check helps pay for while Shirley graciously gives her the old crib from her children's infancies, along with a changing table and a Rubbermaid container filled with clothes and blankets.

Britta comes over with a few cans of eco-friendly gender-neutral paint and they stay up all night converting the cramped second bedroom into a nursery. Annie gets paint in her hair and Britta gets paint on her faux leather boots, but they're both laughing and smiling and it's wonderful.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Later, after they've collapsed on the sofa in the living room, a knock sounds at the door.<p>

It's almost two in the morning and Britta's sprawled and snoring on the couch when Annie ushers Jeff into the small kitchen as quietly as she can. The apartment is cold—they left all the windows open to dispel the smell of paint, and in the dim lighting of the stove, she can see that Jeff's knuckles are split.

"Found your boyfriend," he huffs out, not looking at her.

It's a bad joke to try and mask the fact that he essentially spent the last few months hunting down the asshole that knocked her up, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him once he found him.

He shies away when she tries to examine the wounds more closely, and swallows thickly.

"The nursery's been painted," she states almost woodenly, and feels stupid afterwards; as if the paint on her hands and in her hair wasn't evidence enough.

But Jeff takes her words as she really meant them, as a stilted invitation to look at her and Britta's handiwork.

The tiny room is painted a sunny, gentle shade of yellow, and Shirley's old baby furniture has been repainted white to match the trim around the windows. The scent of paint has disappeared and she closes the window, grateful to have something to do with her shaking hands.

Jeff doesn't say anything and the silence is thick between them. He had never struck her as the kind of guy who beat up others to defend her honor.

"I know it's late, and I didn't mean to wake you up, but I just wanted to…"

He doesn't finish his sentence but she kind of gets it anyway.

"No," she hurries to reassure him, "it's fine, I was awake actually."

He gives her a look like he doesn't believe her.

"Um," she continues, "the baby starting kicking for the first time about an hour after Britta fell asleep. I really was awake."

Her words hang in the air and Jeff gets that same strange look in his eyes that she can't really decipher.

With shy movements, he places his large palm against the curve of her abdomen. Biting her lip, she moves his hand over a little where the baby had been fluttering only moments before. There's only silence, and the sensation of her heart pounding against her ribs when she feels it—the gentle pressure of her baby moving against the warmth of Jeff's hand.

His palm presses closer and his eyes get wider. His mouth is open just the slightest bit, as if trying to find the words to describe the thoughts running through his head. Instead, he kneels in front of her, folds his long frame so he can get closer to gentle trembling.

They stay there in the quiet of the room for several long minutes, his hands cradling her stomach and her hands cradling his despite the cuts on his knuckles, and it's oddly comfortable, more comfortable than it probably should be.

Before he leaves, he allows her to clean and bandage up his hand and he presses a penitent kiss to her temple. She closes all the windows in the apartment and the fierce pounding of her heart makes the baby kick harder.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She's not the first pregnant woman at Greendale and she knows she won't be the last, but that doesn't make it any easier to ignore the obvious stares of her fellow students. Britta does an excellent job of calling out any of the catty girls who talk about her behind her back, and more than once Troy has had to pull out the Forest Whitaker 'Eye' on a few guys that wouldn't take a hint.<p>

But all in all, things seem to be going pretty well. She's still taking all her classes and hanging out with her study group as if things haven't changed. There are decidedly fewer adventures this time around, and a considerable amount of time instead spent vomiting up her breakfast, but by now the morning sickness has passed and all she wants to do is put peanut butter on everything. Luckily, so does Pierce, and at lunchtime they often find themselves forced to sit at a different table by their study group.

The pregnancy part, once the shock wears off, is easy. This is something she can handle.

But the closer she gets to her due date, the more her panic grows. It's one thing to have a baby.

It's another thing to raise it.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Her due date is about a month away and she just wants to quit school and stay at home. Forever.<p>

Homework is a chore, driving is a chore, even moving around is a chore. She feels like she's gained a hundred pounds and she just feels exhausted all the time. Shirley tells her, one day during study group, that she's glowing, and Annie frowns, knowing that the 'glow' is merely perspiration, not the aura of a mother-to-be. Britta can see the irritation on her face and hides a wide smile behind her textbook. Jeff looks defensive, but is pacified by her hand on his wrist.

Abed, who notices everything and can always tell when the group dynamic needs some buoyancy, suggests they help her come up with potential baby names. The gender of the baby is still under wraps, though she has her own gut feeling about it, so Abed reminds them all that the possibilities are endless.

Pierce merely lists the names of his favorite call girls, names which Annie immediately crossed off for any future use. Shirley sticks firmly to names from the New Testament, and seems to be leaning pretty hard on Matthew. Troy reads off an entire list, some of which sound like a lot like Pokémon, before settling on his favorite—Troy. Abed, who likes the symmetry of palindromes, suggests only Hannah, before informing her that he wasn't actually a fan of the name.

Britta remarks, brushing her hair back with a flourish, that it wasn't her place to force a name on someone else's kid, but at the loud groaning from the rest of the group, frowns and merely tells her not to settle on something lame, like Madison or Aiden or whatever's at the top of the list on all those baby name websites.

When all eyes turn to Jeff for his suggestion, he only shrugs.

"It doesn't matter what I come up with, besides, it seems as though Annie already has names picked out," he points out, noting the small smile on her mouth.

Her smile widens in assent—she does have a few names set aside—and Troy whines his protest.

"Oh, come on! Blastoise was a great name! And he has cannons, you guys. _Cannons_. Do any of _you_ have cannons?"

"Once I reach level seven of the Laser Lotus sect, I can actually have a cannon—" Pierce begins, but is soon cut off by the shouts of the group around him.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Her labor is a lot less dramatic than Shirley's was.<p>

She feels a sharp pain in her abdomen in the middle of the night, and the reality of what is to come makes her heart practically leap into her throat. She scrambles for the cell phone resting on her night stand, and hits the speed dial button for Britta. Immediately, the blonde picks up.

"Holy crap, Annie, it's three in the morning—OH! Is it time? Are you okay? Is Jeff already on his way?" She asks groggily, and Annie can hear her shuffling to get dressed.

"No, you're the first person I called. I thought you were taking me to the hospital…" She trails off, clutching her hand to her belly.

"I am, I totally am," Britta insists, and Annie can hear the door to her apartment slam, "I just thought you'd call him first, since he's been all… you know…"

"All what?" She questions, eyeing the overnight bag on the floor that has been packed (and repacked) for a week now. She's trying very hard to find her 'Zen' place, but with Britta rambling in her ear, it's more than a bit difficult.

"Pfft, hell if I know. You guys are so weird. Anyway, I'm on my way. Try not to have the baby until I get there, okay? Also, you should probably call Jeff," and with that, the line goes dead.

Another contraction lances through her, and she dials Jeff's number, gritting her teeth while the ringing echoes through her head.

When he picks up, he's just as frantic on the phone as Britta was, fumbling around in the dark and making promises to meet her at the hospital. Bemused, she asks if she should call Abed and Troy as well, and his honest confusion as to why sort of jolts her.

Jeff _expects_ to be there with her.

She wants to question him some more, but Britta's entering her apartment and well, the contractions are kind of distracting. Jeff promises that he'll see her within the hour, and the steadiness of his voice in that moment helps to calm her jangling nerves.

"Come on, Annie! Time to bring this pequeño bebé into the world!" Britta announces, looking tired but smiling widely as she throws the overnight bag across her shoulder.

She laughs, which is good because she knows that if she were alone right now, she'd probably be crying.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>It takes eleven hours, a botched epidural, and three cups of ice chips, but she does it.<p>

She's a mother.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>She hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep until she feels herself stirring groggily. In a moment of panic, she turns and sees Jeff seated in the chair at her bedside, and she breathes a sigh of relief when she notes the small bundle cradled in his arms.<p>

Her son.

Jeff is holding him as if frozen in place, terrified of dropping or hurting him somehow. But there's a different look in his eyes, a look of pure awe on his face, softening the sharp angles of his features.

"How long was I asleep? And where's Britta?" She asks, gingerly sitting up against the flattened pillows.

She has no idea how he managed to be allowed in her room. Supposedly only immediate family was permitted in, and she had to pass Britta off as her sister to get her to stay during the birth itself.

"You've only been out for about forty minutes. And I'm pretty sure Britta's asleep in the lounge. You would think that she's the one who just had the baby," Jeff teases with his usual bite, but the words are soft, hushed to keep the baby from waking.

He stands slowly, and tenderly places her son in her open arms. For months leading up to the birth, she agonized over whether or not she'd have a shred of maternal instinct, but the moment she holds her son in her arms, she feels something rise up inside of her, and she cradles him close without fear.

"Asher," she whispers, gently running her finger along the smoothness of her baby's cheek. He stirs slightly, but does not wake. It's a good Jewish name, and she imagines that even Shirley would be pleased.

She's too wrapped up in her son to notice the look on Jeff's face as he watches them. But she does hear a telltale click, and looks up to see him taking a picture on his phone. A part of her thinks that he's going to tell her that he's merely taking a picture to send to the rest of the group, but he pockets the device and sets his gaze solely on her. Under normal circumstances, she'd hide her face, knowing that she looks a mess, but she's practically bursting with happiness and can't bring herself to care.

Jeff must sense it too, because he leans down and kisses her softly, mindful of Asher sleeping soundly against her chest. He brushes away a few of her sudden stray tears with his thumb and when she laughs, kisses her again.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>When she and Asher are released from the hospital, Jeff drives them home in his Lexus.<p>

She is both surprised and not surprised to see that there's a car seat in the back, apparently purchased with his money. He checks to make sure it's properly installed at least seven times before he allows her to buckle Asher in.

He drives ten miles under the speed limit and engages his hardly-used emergency brake when they enter the parking lot of her apartment complex. Asher sleeps soundly in the back, completely unaware.

And when they reach her front door, Jeff follows her inside and doesn't leave until he's absolutely satisfied that there's nothing else he can do for her. He kisses her cheek, and the downy crown of Asher's head, and promises to be back the next morning.

Instead, he's back later that night and they fall asleep on the sofa, taking turns cradling Asher close.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>They've begun cohabitating.<p>

Jeff brings minimal baggage, despite a large collection of hair products, and finds that her new apartment is larger than his own. They share a bedroom but aren't sleeping together, and it's surprisingly comfortable and easy and it's certainly helpful to have another pair of hands aiding her with the baby.

When his lease is up, it's only natural that he moves out entirely, signing the document with Asher cooing against his shoulder.

And then she realizes that they're co-parenting as well.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>Britta's the first to notice the change in them.<p>

She stands in the doorway of the nursery with another stuffed animal for the baby, her eyes focused on the way Jeff watches as Annie rocks Asher by the window.

They're basically together.

And slowly, she begins to notice it as well.

Jeff kisses her sometimes when she's standing at the sink, up to her elbows in soap suds, and it makes her heart pound deliciously in her chest. Likewise, she feels something strange uncurl in her chest when she watches him with her son.

They haven't talked about what exactly they are to one another, but when Shirley comes over one afternoon to visit with the new baby, she not-so-subtly brings up rings and vows and the kind of things that haven't actually crossed her mind.

A year or two ago, she would have given her right arm for Jeff Winger to notice her as something other than a child. Yet now, with a baby of her own in her arms, she realizes that she's never going to have that nuclear family; married parents and a baby born in wedlock.

But she never really had that for herself, and wonders if it's something that she wants. It seems almost like a dream.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

* * *

><p>But this is reality.<p>

It's her kid, _their_ kid. Even if he's not Asher's father.

And when Asher burrows his tiny head into the curve of her shoulder, and Jeff places his hand at the small of her back, she realizes that what she has is just as good, if not better.

* * *

><p>-x-<p>

_the end_

-x-

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_._

_._

_there it is! now, I know a wrote a sort of similar story previously for a different fandom, but I think this is different enough from it. it was certainly harder to write._

_ANYWAY-leave me a review to let me know what you think!_

_x_


End file.
